Street scene in San José, Costa Rica.
A modest restaurant attached to a budget motel near the airport in San José, Costa Rica, serves improbably excellent food. The graciousness of the servers compensates for the dreary decor. Cooks and waitstaff sang along to rock en español playing on a boombox during my first meal at the establishment.
I was spellbound as I heard them simulate raspy voices when the arresting "Un último vals" played. The new single by Joaquín Sabina served as my introduction to the veteran Spanish musician who seems to an amalgamation of Leonard Cohen, Neil Diamond or Tom Waits. A waiter told me Sabina is on a farewell tour that will soon take him to San José.
My newfound infatuation led to an awkward incident. Rather than songs by Sabina, a playlist of English-language rock hits typified by Loverboy’s execrable “Working for the Weekend” played when I returned to the establishment.
I objected. The manager told me she and her colleagues had been listening to Sabina all day and considered the likes of Loverboy and REO Speedwagon a welcome change of pace. I ended up getting my way, but I’ve felt awful about my sense of entitlement ever since.